Inside my body is a demon. The demon makes me want to
drink a lot. It says…you’ll feel really good once you drink a whole bunch. It
says that when I drink a whole bunch I am really smart and funny and kind of
sexy. Mostly, it just makes all my anxiety go away. I like it. So I stay away
from my demon. I try to control it. But usually the demon gets what it wants.
And I feel good for a little bit. And then I order food. Lots of food. And I
eat it all. And I wake up and I want to die. I wonder why I can’t stop myself.
I wonder why I’m not like other people. I get mad about the money I spent. The
money I work so hard to save. The money I could buy something nice with that
goes to pizza and booze instead. I wonder what it’s like to wake up feeling
good. To wake up and go to the gym. To have goals and ambition. To wake up and
be loved. I fight the sadness. I fight the demon. But sometimes I get tired. And
I wonder why no one else seems tired too. So I drink. And for a little while, I
feel better.
No comments:
Post a Comment